


Mark of a Warrior

by JustAnotherWannabeWriter



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherWannabeWriter/pseuds/JustAnotherWannabeWriter
Summary: I love the idea of past lives and the fact that the Angara hold to that belief makes me so happy. Added to the fact that I thought a few of the scars in the CC looked more like birthmarks and the theory that birthmarks are injuries sustained in a past life, I had to write something about it all. Naturally, it took a NSFW turn. I hope you enjoy.





	

Sara could feel him staring, even with her eyes closed. There was no mistaking the weight of those sparkling blue eyes gazing down at her. She was used to the looks she’d sometimes get. Even before him, curious about not just her species but  _her_ , lovers would sneak a peek and strangers would gape when they thought she wouldn’t notice. She told herself it didn’t bother her. However, there were still moments when she wished she could disappear. Not with him, though. Never with him. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was curious about. The soft caress of his fingertip was a dead giveaway. **  
**

“Do they have a meaning to your people?”

A smile lifted the edges of her lips. Of course, he would know she wasn’t actually sleeping and not even bother with the pretense. Opening her eyes, she readjusted her head so her chin was resting on the thick muscles of his chest. “It’s just a birthmark, Jaal. Lots of people have them,” she explained with a friendly chuckle. “They don’t have any meaning.”

Jaal regarded her for a long moment, cradling her cheek in his palm while his thumb traced the discolouration under her left eye. He seemed lost in thought, concerned about something. The openness of his eyes showed the inner battle he was fighting. It was then that the realization came to her.

“They mean something to your people, don’t they?”

His smile was his only answer.

“Tell me,” she prompted him. “Please.”

“They are a part of what is left of your past life.”

He seemed hesitant to continue. Almost as though he feared his explanation would frighten her. She was somewhat offended by his sudden bid to protect her. In all their time together she had never once given him reason to believe she needed to be coddled. She was just about to make her unhappiness known when he finally continued.

“They are the marks of your death.”

There was a long pause before she found her voice again. “Oh.”

He took her face between his hands then. With gentle instance, he coaxed her up his body until they were eye to eye. His lips were warm and sweet, caressing every millimetre of her discoloured skin. “You were a great warrior. Just as you are now. Brave, fearless, resilient. And stubborn. Very, very stubborn.” His ardent assessment came in the form of a sensual whisper, sending a bolt arousal through the skin of cheek and down her spine to settle between her thighs.

“You can’t possibly know that. Just because I’m great, damn near perfect, now doesn’t mean I was in this past life.” She tried to sound like her usual sarcastic self but the breathlessness of her voice negated the effect. “I could just as easily died a coward.”

She attempted to stall any argument he may try to give with a kiss, but he was faster. Before she could seal her lips over his, he leaned further into the pillows and held her in place. “The proof is written on your skin,” he argued. With practiced speed and agility, he flipped their positions. He grinned down at her, a predatory look that meant death for his enemies and something far better for her. “And I can make you admit it.”

He started with the blemish on her cheek. Soft, slow kisses danced over her skin. The tender touch of his lips warmed her heart and reminded her how much he truly did love her, despite all her perceived flaws. He moved down the column of her elegant neck, branding her skin with his scorching kiss until he reached the birthmark on her collarbone. They moaned in unison at the first touch of his tongue against her heated skin.

“You are no coward, Sara,” he growled. Her quick quip twisted into a strangled groan with the swipe of his thumb over her nipple. He continued to circle the puckered flesh and branding her with his kisses, stoking the fire building within her.

“Jaal…” She arched her back into his touch, greedy for more, and tried to coax him into a searing kiss. But he had other plans.

His hand disappeared from his breast and began its journey down her stomach. Before she could protest the loss of his touch, his lips sealed over her nipple, suckling on the sensitive bud. She was lost in the euphoric bliss of his skilled mouth but still had enough sense of mind to notice his lingering touch near her navel. He traced the irregular edges of her birthmark there, driving her mad with desire. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged the fact that he had its shape memorized, making her heart sing.

Then his hand took the final plunge between her thighs, making her sing too.

She was sure the whole of the Tempest crew could hear her cries as he worked his fingers with expert precision. He drove her to the brink with the tips of his fingers only to ease off when she was just about to find her end. He did this again and again, taking her to the edge only to pull her back at the last moment until she was begging him for mercy.

“Tell me what I wish to hear,” he ordered. When she didn’t respond, he thrust his single digit deep into her pulsing heat and curled it upwards. She nearly came off the bed, howling with her need for release. He repeated his command while slowly fucking her with finger, allowing his thumb to just barely graze her swollen clit every time he filled her.

She was incoherent, her lust-addled mind unable to comprehend what he wanted from her. She gyrated her hips mindlessly, wantonly, desperate to bring about her orgasm. He followed her movements with perfect timing, ensuring she never increased her pleasure once. Not until she said what he wanted. Sara searched her clouded thoughts for clue. She could barely remember how this had started. She could recall the exquisite feeling of his lips caressing her cheek.

Then it clicked.

“I’m not a coward,” she cried, thrashing her head back and forth.

“What are you then?” He curled his finger once more but this time it was accompanied by a firm stroke of his thumb over her clit.

She allowed herself to become lost in the raw pleasure he was finally bestowing upon her. However, when she didn’t answer him, he began to ease off again. She knew she would not survive if he didn’t send her to her completion this time. “A warrior!” There was no doubt her crew didn’t hear her that time. And she couldn’t possibly care any less. “Your warrior. Oh, god. Jaal, I’m your warrior. Now, please, just let me… Please!”

That was all he needed to hear.

Within minutes of her fervent shout, he had taken her apart and put her back together. By the time he was done, every inch of her perfect skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and her strong muscles quivered. He settled at her side, resting his head on her heaving chest to listen to her thundering heartbeat. He smiled with satisfaction as he held her in his arms, marveling over how beautiful and powerful she was. Both in this life and each one that preceded it.


End file.
